The Black Hat
by JanetheGamer123
Summary: Wheatley and Chell have similar book interests, but that shouldn't change anything. Wheatley is still a villain.
1. Chapter 1

Wheatley loved the library.

Working there felt natural to him. He was great with customers, and helping people find their books. It was brilliant, and he loved it. But today, it was a particularly slow day. He was reading 'I Wear the Black Hat', which he had found, and it was very interesting. It viewed what makes a villain by today's standards, and he felt he could relate. His intense reading was disrupted by a light cough, and he looked up. And there, right in front of the desk, was the woman he had tried to kill, and, in retaliation, had sent him to the deep abyss of space to die, until he came to earth.

He had to admit, she cleaned up rather nicely.

"Ha-Hallo," he croaked, setting his book down. She looked as surprised to see him as he was to see her. "Welcome to the library, my name is W-" he swallowed, afraid of what might happen when he said his name. "Wheatley, h-how may I be of service? T-to you, to clarify, how may I be of service to you?" She reached into her pocket, and Wheatley winced, afraid she might pull out a weapon. She instead pulled out a small piece of paper, a list of various books. "Okay," he said, taking the paper. "I'm guessing the ones that are crossed out are the ones you read, yes? Is that nodding-okay, I think I can help you," He stood up to his impressive height and walked with her through the various shelves.

"So, on your list it says you want to read-" She interuppted him and pointed to a crossed out title, I Wear the Black Hat. He raised an eyebrow. "Oh, you want to read that? Coincidentally, I'm reading it now, so-" She shook her head and pointed at the title, and then at him. He sighed and sadly looked at her eyes. "You remember, huh?" She nodded and crossed her arms. Tapping her foot slightly, she gave him an expectant look. He sighed again and fumbled with his blue tie.

"Look," he said, avoiding eye contact. "I'm sorry. I really am, and if you don't want to forgive me, I completely understand. I was bossy, monsterous, just downright cruel, and I'm sorry." He ran his fingers along the spines of the books on the chesnut shelf. "I didn't know what I was thinking, and I guess I felt as if I could finally accomplish something, and be noticed. Not ignored, noticed. But I never had the intention of hurting you before that. So, I'm sorry, and maybe after I help you find your books, we could go out for coffee and discuss this?" He flinched as she mulled it over.

She let out a sigh of defeat and handed him the list. He opened his eyes in surprise. "Really?" he said, taken aback. "Well, all right, let's get your books." She grabbed his arm and pointed to the list, and back at him. Beads of sweat formed on his head. "Right, I understand, I'm the villain still. Okay, first book. Atmospheric Disturbances..."

Awkward silences can be awkward.

Wheatley noticed this right away. They sat in a table outside, Wheatley sitting as far away as possible from her as she glared at him. He wanted to say something, but he was afraid anything would anger her somehow. He was about to speak until a waiter interrupted the silence.

"Hello," the overly-happy waiter said. "How are you folks doing? Can I take your order?" Wheatley coughed.

"Um," he said, fiddling with his tie. It was a new habit. "Just water, for me." She agreed and the waiter quickly jotted it down.

"So," he said, looking up and smiling. "How long have you two been together?" Wheatley deeply blushed and avoided her glare.

"No," he reassured, holding up his hands. "No, she hates me." The water laughed and grasped Wheatley's shoulder.

"What holiday did you forget this time, pal?" he said, laughing. Then he leaned in by Wheatley's ear and said in a sotto voice, "Buy 'er some flowers an' she'll forgive you." He patted his shoulder and walked away. Wheatley cleared his throat and clasped his hands together. He was about to speak, but she held up a hand.

"I hate you." she said. Those three words, spoken so silently but had so much emphasis it was enough to make Wheatley's chest tighten in dismay. He retracted his hands and set them under the table, trying his best not to avoid eye contact. She crossed her arms and sat back. "You tried to kill me, and even if you try to gloss it over with 'sincere' apologies, it's just another ploy to have less guilt by the end of the day. You're a villain, and we both know that villains can't be reformed. Even if you say that you're a good citizen and work at the library, you. Are. A. Villain." She sighed, giving the impression that she had wanted to say this for a while. He again fiddled with his tie, thinking of something to say.

"I'm sorry?" he said, flinching. She silently fumed, stood up, and put a hand in her purse. Finding what she was looking for, a black clothing item, she balled it up and threw it at him. She angrily walked away, not looking back. Wheatley shakily took the item, unfolded it, and gasped.

It was a black stocking cap. 


	2. Chapter 2

Wheatley set his face in his hands, contemplating what had just happened. He had just been told "I hate you," by the woman he lov-

Wheatley bolted upright. "No, that's not right," he muttered. He had tried to kill her, and he did NOT love her at all. She hated him, simple as that. He decided to stop thinking about this altogether and focus on the tablecloth. But he couldn't push those stupid feely thoughts out of his head. The waiter from earlier walked to his table and sat down with him.

"Hey," he said in a consoling tone. "I saw that whole thing go down and man, I'm sorry. What happened between you two, anyway?" A wave of horrible memories drowned Wheatley, leaving him with a confused feeling of guilt and misery. 'Oh, nothing special, I just went absolutely bonkers after being put into a giant body of a mad robot and tried to kill her,' He thought, but he decide on a more subtle explanation.

"We, uh, got into a bit of a fight," he said quietly, avoiding eye contact. The waiter tsked and flipped his unruly red hair.

"Oh, you don't need to tell me," he said. "The girl who said she hated you," Wheatley winced and he continued on. "Her name is Chell, and she's my neighbor. She can definitely hold a grudge." Wheatley cocked his head and the waiter explained. "I asked her out once, and she punched me in the face. Never talked to me since. Now that I think about it, she never talked to me before that, either. Oh well, better to be alone, right?" He playfully punched Wheatley in the shoulder (A little too hard) and held out a hand.

"Name's Kenneth, by the way," Kenneth said. "Kenneth Tannenbaum Budapest, itsa mothful, I know, but you can call me Ken." Wheatley intoduced himself, and Ken slapped a hand to his forehead. "Dammit!" he exclaimed. " "Wheat"! I forgot to buy bread today!" He stood up and handed his black apron to a female waitress. "You mind takin' my shift, Romy? I gotta take care of something," He cast a glance at Wheatley. "You wanna come?" he asked. Wheatley shrugged and nodded.

Ken started towards his car and Wheatley started to follow, but then he looked back at the black stocking cap resting on the white tablecloth. He hesitated, looked around, and hastily stuffed the cap into his coat pocket.

The first thing that Wheatley noticed about Ken is that he really, really liked to talk.

Wheatley liked to talk too, it was obviously a given, but his talking was one of many nervous responses he had. It seemed like Ken talked to no end, afraid that a moment of silence for him would cause the world to collapse beneath his orange sneakers.

"And then the guy, Bartman, blocked the ball from Alou! I feel bad for 'im, though, 'cause every yelled at him after that!" Ken explained, pushing the cart down the wine isle. He took a couple red ones and continued the journey. "I dunno, what do you think?" Wheatley stopped, and turned back to Ken. Ken's ranting had been blocked and muffled by his thoughts, and he didn't really know what to say.

"Well, um," he said, biting his lip. "If the bloke were to-"

"Anyway," Ken continued. "That guy became infamous," Wheatley blocked out Ken's waterfall of baseball obsession and went on to think more. Chell was her name, wasn't it? It was a nice name, Wheatley thought, maybe short for Michelle. Pretty, too. If only she could forgive him. Wheatley fully understood why she wouldn't, but it still really hurt. If only he could make it up to her somehow, and not be a villain. He felt the warm fleece of the cap in his pocket brushing against his fingers. Maybe he could get her some new books, or take her out for dinner or something, or give her wine-

Wheatley snapped out of his trance and looked at the various wine bottles resting in Ken's cart. "I thought you were going to get bread?" he asked, interuppting Ken. Ken waved a hand.

"It can wait," he said. "Besides, I-" he stopped and frowned. And then he smirked and casually set an arm on the cart. "Tell me," he said, raising an eyebrow at Wheatley. "What was I just talking about?" Wheatley bit his lip and tried to remember.

"Um," he fumbled around with his tie. "That one bloke, uh, Bartman! That was his name, right?" Kenneth nodded, the cart under his arm moving a small bit.

"I'm going to ask you a couple questions," he said, getting up and brushing a strand of red hair from his eyes. "About Chell. You ready?" Wheatley nodded and Ken started speaking.

"What color is her hair?"

"Dark brown," Wheatley replied nervously.

"What about her eyes?"

"Slate grey with a hint of emerald."

"How tall is she?"

"5.11."

"Do you love her?"

"Ye-NO!" Wheatley yelled, causing some people to stare. A woman escorted her son away and Wheatley blushed. Ken laughed and grasped Wheatley's shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, Wheat," he said. "It's normal." Wheatley shook his head and pushed up his glasses.

"But I don't!" he exclaimed, holding up his hands. "I really don't, I was just-just caught by surprise, that's it! Caught by surprise from the out-of-nowhere-ness of that question! Really, I don't!" Ken shrugged and added some whites to his cart.

"Sure," he said in a disbelieving tone. He dropped one more red in and sighed. "That should be enough for a couple days," he proclaimed, pushing his cart to checkout. After he bought the items he looked at who was behind Wheatley in the line, smiled, and patted Wheatley on the shoulder. "I'll leave you alone on this one, buddy," he stated, walking away. "You can catch up!"

Wheatley cocked his head and heard someone clearing their throat behind him. He turned around and imeadiately felt his chest drop in disbelief and guilt.

"Hallo, Chell."


	3. Chapter 3

Chell gestured to move out of the way so other people could check out, and they moved over to the magazines. Chell crossed her arms and scrolled her eyes over the magazines.

"That black hat that I gave you," she said, avoiding eye contact. Wheatley pulled it out of his pocket. It felt warm beneath his fingers, the fleece soft and furry. "You understand what it means, don't you?" Wheatley nodded.

"Oh, yeah, definitely," He said, feeling somewhat hurt. "It means I, am in fact, still the villian," He laughed nervously, and under the influence of her glare, stopped and frowned. "Look, I'm sorry, I really am, the way I reacted to your, your," He cringed, trying to find the correct term to describe what she had said. "Your hatred of me was truly innapropriate, it was, and I'm sorry." He ran his fingers through his hair and bit his tongue. "Is there any way I can possibly make it up to you?" 'Without screwing it up,' he thought, but he didn't add that.

Chell's thoughts and ideas ran through her head like an array of fireworks, waiting to explode but failing at the last second. All of her ideas seemed worse than the last until, finally, she came across one that might work. "You're going to help me with some household chores today." She stated. Wheatley grinned.

"Really?" he questioned. She nodded, and he smiled even wider. "Brilliant! I can't wait, it actually sounds reasonable, I-" She held up a hand and pointed to the cap. Wheatley blushed and shoved it back in his pocket. "Of course, I forgot..." he mumbled. She rolled her eyes, grabbed his wrist, and led him to her car.

Ariel Diaz lived a simple life.

Spending most of her time reading, talking with her roommate, Chell, or looking at her neighbor Ken in his yard. There has seldom been more than two people in their house, so that is why she was shocked to see Wheatley.

"Hallo!" he had said energetically, waving for a moment. Ariel raised and eyebrow and gave Chell a skeptical look and Chell shrugged. Ariel then smirked, got up, and shook Wheatley's hand.

"Nice to meet you, man," she said. She slyly smiled and said "I didn't know you were Chell's type." Wheatley blushed and quickly retracted his hand from the handshake. She grinned even wider and went back into the living room. Wheatley, still blushing, followed Chell into the kitchen.

"So," he said. "What should we start out with?" Chell pointed to the sink, and various tupperware following. Wheatley raised an eyebrow. "Oh," he said, walking towards the sink. "Oh, just the washing up? Well, that's good that it's plastic, you should know already that I'm not very good in the, uh," he cleared his throat. "Locomotive areas, so plastic should be just fine, just fine." She handed him a bowl and turned on the water. He clumsily pulled up his sleeves and took it. "This should be easy enough," he said. After he put it under the water he yelped and dropped the bowl.

Chell groaned and picked up the bowl. She set it aside and put a thermostat under the water. She groaned when she saw the temperature. "Wheatley," she said quietly. "The temperature is ninety-nine degrees," Wheatley looked shocked and appaled.

"Really?" he questioned. She nodded and he slapped a hand to his forehead. "Well, it felt like a bloody, pfft, I don't know, a thousand! Or something," She sighed, turned down the water, and handed him the bowl. Wheatley blushed and nervously grabbed it, as if it was a virus or something. He slowly ran it under the water, careful not to have the water touch his fingertips. Chell bit her lip and shoved his hands under the water. He screamed, backed up, and dropped the bowl. "It's too cold!" he said loudly. Chell picked up the bowl and st it aside.

"Let's work on something more," she cringed. "Simple." They walked into the living room and Ariel smirked.

"Too difficult?" she said with her sly grin. Chell scoffed.

"Go and watch Kenneth," She replied. Ariel's face went red and she stormed off. Chell smiled and went over to the bookshelf. She pointed to the books.

"Can you sort those?" she asked. Whetley nodded and kneeled down. Most of the books were extremely unorganized. Some were vertical, others horizontal. Some were too far back, others were close to falling off the edge. There was great diversity in the types of literature. Magazines were scattered about, sticking out and smushed up against the books. It was a librarians nightmare.

"Suer, yeah, no problem," he said quietly, flinching at the sight of how disorderly it was. He started by pulling out the books in the back, dusting them off, and placing it back. He went in order, and by time it became more and more orderly. Halfway through the process, they heard a beep from the kitchen.

"Chell, can you get my coffee for me?" Ariel called. Chell left the room and Wheatley continued to sort, but more slowly. Dusting off the magazines, a large amount of curiosity went through him. He reached back to a book that he couldn't get before, and pulled harder. As soon as he lodged it out, pages flew out of the shelf and landed everywhere. He looked inside the book and discovered that the pages had already been ripped out, and this was not his fault. He flipped through the black book and found the cover page. He almost fainted at what he saw.

I Wear the Black Hat 


	4. Chapter 4

The book was shaking in Wheatley's hands. Millions of thoughts were swarming in his brain.

"Why did she tear up this book?"  
"Is this my fault?"  
"Why did she shove it in the back of her bookshelf?"  
"IS THIS MY BLOODY FAULT?!"

He brushed off the book and carefully set it back. He was about to see what pages were torn, then he heard a yelp from the kichen. He quickly stood up and ran to the kitchen.

"What's happenin'?" Wheatley asked, hopping nervously from one foot to another. Chell gripped her wrist, for it was covered in coffee. Both hands were covered in spilled, scalding hot coffee. Wheatley panicked. "D-DON'T WORRY, don't worry, I've got everything in control-" he promptly slipped over the coffee while trying to reach for the paper towels. He got up, straightened his glasses, and grabbed the paper towels. He handed them to her and she cleaned the coffee off of her hands. He bit his lip.

"I have a question for you," he said nervously. She looked up and he stared into her eyes. "Why did you anihilate that book?" Her pupils shrunk into pinpricks. She stumbled clumsily and collapsed to the floor. Wheatley gasped and followed her. He started to ask questions, ask if she was okay, but she was in her own world as the scene replayed in her mind.

Chell stormed into her home, her vision blurred by tears. Ariel called Chell's name, but she didn't care. She stood in front of her bookshelf, growling. She scanned her eyes across the books, trying to find the correct book. At last, she found it, She grabbed it out with too much force and some pages came out. "Good," she thought. "The less the better." She stormed off to her room and set the book on her bed. She spent ten minutes glaring at it, and anger consumed her.

"Coincedently, I'm reading the same thing," A voice entered her mind. She screamed loudly and attacked the book. Tearing out pages, bending the spine. Tears fell down her face and onto the book. She attacked it for a while, and then calmed down. What was she doing? It was irrational, not logical, everything that she wasn't. She took a deep breath and collected the pages. She took the book, it was more of a cover now, and went into the living room. She stuffed the pages into the back of the bookshelf and stuffed the book in front of it. She took another breath and sat in the chair.

What was wrong with her? Chell had just completely lashed out. On a book. She drummed her fingers together, thinking about the situation. She hated Wheatley, but she didn't at the same time. Why did she feel so...

"Chell!" Wheatley yelled, holding onto her shoulders. Her eyes were open, but she was catatonic. He wrapped his arms around her and breathed deeply. "Please, come on, just talk! Or cough, or something!" He closed his eyes. "Please..." He heard coughing behind him. He turned around to see Ariel, leaning against the doorway with a smirk.

"Hello," she says casually. He glared as she walked forward. "How are you two doing?" He bit his lip.

"She spilled some coffee," he said in a neutral tone. "I asked her a question, and she just froze like that." Ariel raised an eyebrow.

"What'd you ask 'er?" she asked he narrowed his eyes and stood up.

"How dare you." He said flatly, and her smile faltered. He walked up to her, pointing a finger. "How the hell can you stand idly by, while I just told you that your best friend, no, the woman I LOVE is bloody catatonic?!" Ariel mouth dropped. Her eyes weren't focused on Wheatley, though. It was behind Wheatley, where Chell was now standing, eyes alive. Wheatley turned around swiftly, fiddling with his tie. "H-How much did you hear?" he asked in a hoarse whisper. Ariel put her hand on his shoulder.

"Tall guy," she whispered. "She heard your whole...speech," He gasped and hopped between his feet. He had no idea what to do, now.

"I'm-I have to-someplace!" he suddenly exclaimed. He ran out, tripping over his own lanky limbs. 'Okay,' he thought once he was out of the house. 'T-They said that Ken's house is right next to theirs, so, just look at the license plates,' He glanced at one, to the right, which read "NOR5K1" and another on the left that read "#1 WINE" Wheatley sighed. 'That ought to be him,' he thought. He made a beeline for the door and rushed inside.

"KEN, I-" Wheatley stopped and viewed what Ken was watching. "Are you watching One Life to Live?" Ken scrambled for the remote and quickly turned it off. He wiped away the tears and turned to Wheatley.

"No," Ken said flatly. "What's up?" Wheatley shook his head.

"I royally screwed up this time Ken," said Wheatley. Ken cocked his head and Wheatley explained what happened. Ken cocked his head like a ginger puppy again and smiled.

"Oh," he said. "You finally admit it," Wheatley covered his eyes.

"Don't judge me, I wasn't thinking!" He yelled. Ken laughed and got up.

"I'm not," said Ken, holding his hands up defensively. "You defended your girl, and I respect that," Wheatley stepped back.

"My...girl?" he asked, stuttering. Ken laughed and hit him on the back. Wheatley stepped back again. "But she's not even my," he groaned. " 'girl', she probably hates me even more by now!" Ken smiled and crossed his arms.

"You kissed 'er yet?" Ken asked. Wheatley slapped him in the face. "What was that for?!" He yelled angrily. Wheatley crossed his arms and frowned.

"Just caught me off guard, is all," said Wheatley. Ken fumed. Wheatley sighed. "Look, I'm sorry," he said. "I've just been kind of emotion-y lately, and, I don't know, I feel like I'm having as much trouble as a bloke who can't think of a bloody proper metaphor!" A small smile creeped up on Ken's face.

"You know what?" said Ken. "We're gonna talk to her, alright buddy?" Wheatley hesitated, fumbled with his tie, and nodded. 


	5. Chapter 5

Ariel was now comforting Chell, who was not in her catatonic state, but a seemingly emotionless state nonetheless. "Chell, c'mon," Ariel said, lightly patting her shoulder. "I know that what Tall Guy said was..." she cringed. "Awkward, but it was at least thoughtful," Chell muttered something incoherently, something that sounded like "Not sure 'bout...what I feel...him," Ariel raised an eyebrow. "What was that?" she asked. Chell leapt up.

"I'M NOT SURE ABOUT WHAT I FEEL ABOUT HIM!" Chell shouted, a fiery sense of contempt in her eyes. Her shoulders slouched. "I hate him, but at the same time...I...I" She sat down and set her face in her hands. Ariel pat her on the back. Chell looked at a fleece cap on the floor, and when Ariel wasn't looking, she stuffed it in her pocket.

"I know, I know," Ariel said in a consoling tone. "It's difficult to decipher...feelings, but you're bright, you'll get through this," They sat there for a while until they heard a knock at the door. Chell eyes became alive and she bolted to the door. Ken and Wheatley stood at the door, Wheatley looking like a strider compared to Ken. Chell felt her heart leap at the sight of Wheatley, but she dismissed it and let them in. Ken casually made a beeline to stand next to Ariel so that Chell and Wheatley could have their...conversation. Ariel blushed and twirled her blond hair.

"Hallo," Wheatley said quietly. Chell looked down and lightly kicked her foot. Wheatley sighed. "Look, I'm sorry," he said. Chell looked up and he continued. "About everythin'! About our...battle, about the book, about me confessing my feelings-never mind, I'll move on,"

"What d'you reckon their fight was about?" Ken whispered to Ariel. Ariel, completely surprised by him suddenly talking to her, merely stuttered and looked at her shoes.

"H-How did you find out about the book being destroyed?" Chell asked. Wheatley, suddenly smiling, laced his fingers with hers.

"The only way a man finds out anything," Wheatley said, softly chuckling. "From snooping about. It was surprising, but believe me, I've seen worse,"

"Like when you tried to kill me," Said Chell flatly, forgetting about Ken and Ariel's residence.

"What did she just-" Ken whispered. "Should we call the police?"

"No, let them have their moment," Ariel whispered, gripping Ken's hand. He blushed, but didn't object.

"Yeah, like when, like when I tried to, that," Wheatley said, frowning. "But you have no idea how sorry I am about that...ordeal. I mean, if I tried to play down the subtlety of my forgiveness a little bit, I would be on my bloody KNEES, begging," he shook his head quickly. "But that's not the point of why I came here. My point is, everyone has secrets. Like Ken's secret is, he watches One Life To Live, and he's a huge fan of Victoria Buchanan," Ken slapped his free hand over his mouth, keeping him from screaming all of the swear words he knew at the top of his lungs at Wheatley. "And my secret is," Continued Wheatley. If you looked closely, you might have noticed that he moved a tiny bit closer. "I love you. I am a bit afraid to admit that, not gonna lie, I'm a bit afraid you might beat me up, but I don't care. I am ready to say that I," He moved a bit closer. "Love," A bit more. "You."

When he finally felt as if he moved close enough and kissed her. He had to stoop down quite a bit, but he did not care. Whatever it took, he would go to all of the lengths. Ready for a slap, or even a punch in the face, he still kissed her. And then, he realized something.

She was kissing him back.

At this, he was taken aback. He wasn't angry, oh no, far from it, he was just surprised. They continued, neither of them caring how long, but then they broke apart. And they just stood there, looking into each other's eyes, smiling madly.

"Wow," Ariel said after a while. "Go Tall Guy! That was awesome! And I thought you were a coward," Wheatley tried to frown, but he couldn't bring himself to. This was probably the proudest moment of his life. He put his arm around Chell's shoulder, pulling her close.

"Oh, I'm not," he said proudly. "I'm just a bit of a villain." Chell smiled gleefully, like a child. "So," he said to her smiling. "D-Do you want to go out for dinner, maybe? Like, like Italian food?" She smiled.

"Sure," she said. Then she got a spark in her eyes. She reached in to her pocket. "Close your eyes real quick," He closed his eyes and she pulled a black fleece stocking cap from her pocket. "It's a bit cold outside," She closed the hat around his head, rendering his glasses a bit crooked. "So you might want to wear that," He opened his eyes and smiled.

"Black Hat?" he asked. She smiled and nodded. He laughed as they set out for their dinner date.

"It does fit me nicely."

Author's note: Well, there it is. My first chapterfic. If you liked it, that's brilliant! Sorry if this last chapter seemed a bit quick, and lazy, and overly fluffy and stupid, but I DID put actual thought into it. Really. I did. I was listening to my thinking music (Wilco) and everything! But again, I hope you liked it.


End file.
